If Only For A Moment
by the ticking clock
Summary: Because when all is said and done, there's nothing more important than the bond of family. Drabbles and one-shots focused on the Salvatore brothers.


Stefan's first memory-a hazy, human one-is of his big brother's strong, warm hands lifting him into the air, and Damon's voice: "Where are you going, little boy?"  
It's his brother's voice that comes back to him now-high and happy, on the edge of laughter. That was Damon before the world had tainted his innocence. Before it had destroyed him.  
And Stefan is the only one who can still see that person in his brother. Even if it is only for a fleeting instant, sometimes he catches glimpses of the big brother who had made him feel like he could fly.

* * *

Damon doesn't know where it is, but somewhere during long years spent apart, months of hiding, decades of hate and hurt, his little brother became his enemy.  
But sometimes, when he closes his eyes, he still sees that innocent little boy who asked him so very long ago, if people could learn to fly.

* * *

"Do you hate me?" Stefan had asked Damon, once, during the few times they had seen each other and had a civil conversation over the years.  
Damon had looked at him, all fire and wit and icy rage, and had replied with a curt, "Yes."  
"Do you want to kill me?"  
Damon had laughed-a soft, choked sound-and looked up at him sidelong. "No," he had said, quietly.  
Sometimes Stefan thinks that one word is what's keeping them both alive. Whatever he might say, Damon does not want to kill him.  
Stefan can live with that.

* * *

They have been brothers for nearly one-hundred-and-fifty-years.  
Sometimes it doesn't seem like it's been so long. Sometimes, when Damon closes his eyes they could be teenagers again, playing ball outside their house. But then, there are other times, when the years stream out before him, like a long, boring movie. Years of feeding and blood, decades of grief and hate, weeks and weeks spent hating his brother. Cursing him for doing this to Damon.  
Damon had wanted to die. Been sure that dying, was the only thing he could do.  
But when he looks back on it, really thinks about it...  
He wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

He can't deny that there are many times he wants to kill his brother himself.  
Not having Damon around would certainly make some things much easier. Like living in Mystic Falls for example.  
But every time he comes close, every time they fight-when they're snarling and tearing and ripping at each other-and he slams Damon to the ground, raises a stake-  
He can't do it.  
Damon's icy blue eyes stare at him, wide and pale, burning like fire in his pale face. For half a second, Stefan sees doubt. Damon is not sure if Stefan is actually going to do it this time. If he is angry enough.  
That doubt, that look-  
Growling, Stefan throws the stake away.  
Damon smirks, just the smallest twitch of his lips, and claps him on the shoulder. "I knew you didn't have it in you."  
Stefan just cuffs him across the back of the head, and doesn't say anything. He doesn't really need too.

* * *

Even in his darkest place, Stefan just can't let Damon die.  
It's almost annoying, if Damon thinks about it. Can't Stefan just let him live his life? If his brother is going to be so ferocious and go back to his ripper ways, then...  
But, he has to admit as he is sitting alone by the fire one night, it is kind of touching. Comforting.  
That Stefan still remembers enough, still cares enough to want him around is comforting. Even if all Damon is doing is screwing up his brother and Klaus's plans.  
At least Damon is still loved by someone. Maybe that's why Stefan doesn't want to kill him-if Damon were dead, Stefan would be alone. Wasn't that why his little brother had forced him to turn in the first place?  
Sighing, Damon took another sip of his drink, closing his eyes as the alcohol tickled and burned down his throat, soothing the ever-present hunger.  
No matter who Stefan is-the bunny eating pacifist, or the wild ripper-he is still Damon's little brother.  
And that truth makes all the difference in the world.

* * *

Stefan has always been all about words.  
Sometimes, it's journals. Other times, he is writing names down on a wall. But Stefan keeps track of his life by writing it all down, no matter what he's doing.  
So when Damon comes back to Mystic Falls after fifteen years, the first thing Stefan does is think about how to describe his older brother for a journal entry later. Then, of course, he throws him out a window.  
But when he sits down, later, tapping the pencil between his fingers, staring at the blank page in front of him, and thinks of his brother, he thinks that Damon looked sad. Sad and angry and vengeful.  
And he writes, where is the older brother I could always rely on?  
His mind answers: He is dead.

* * *

They were cared about each other more than some people might think.  
If asked, Damon would be the first to deny that, but he knows it is true. Somewhere, buried deep, is a bond that they can never forget, never ignore. No matter what happens, no matter how terrible either one of them is being to the other, there is an understanding. An understanding that they will always be there, always look out for each other. Damon had said it himself, "in one-hundred-and-sixty-years, this will all be over, and we'll go back to being brothers."  
Because they had an eternity. It didn't matter what happened now...who they killed, how furious they were at each other.  
They had forever to make up for it.

* * *

Sometimes, Stefan can't believe all that has happened to him and his brother.  
When he thinks about it, goes back through over one-hundred years of journals, the same mesage continues to jump out at him.  
Damon saved me again...cleaned the blood off of me and told me to pull myself together...  
Damon let me walk away. He let me run off and destroy myself and now Lexi is the only one who can...  
I miss the brother who cared about me.  
Damon came back again, after fifty years. He is still angry, but he seems almost lonely...  
Damon's gone. For good, I think, this time.  
He's back. He's back with a trail of bodies and blood in his wake, but he's back.  
Maybe I can make him care again.  
Damon had left. He had destroyed Stefan's friends. He had killed mercilessly. He had ruined lives.  
But he had come back. Come back and saved Stefan's life countless times. Came back and made it his mission to keep Stefan from going completely over the edge. Came because his brother needed him. Stayed because Stefan still needed him. Would always need him.  
"Stefan?" Damon sticks his head through the open door. "Care for some O Positive?"  
Stefan bares his teeth at him, in a spontaneous act of playfulness and threw an old book at his brother's head.  
Damon scoffs, and moves out of the way effortless. "Good effort, baby bro. You're in a good mood." His eyes rake the journals spread out around Stefan in piles. "Taking a trip to the past?" He picks one up and flips it open. "Damon has gone over the edge. There is nothing human left in him-"  
He broke off as Stefan ripped the book from his hand. Damon laughs, and sauntered away. "Later, brother." He calls over his shoulder.  
Stefan carefully returned the journal to it's pile. Damon's words, and the entries he had read remind him of something. Something that he had forgotten, until his brother had brought up the past. Damon had mentioned it in his own, round-about way several times over the past few weeks. Picking up a pencil and flipping his journal for 2012 open to a blank page, Stefan wrote.  
There are many things I've learned over the years. Things I've done that I'm not proud of. But there's one thing I do know.  
That when all is said and done, there's nothing more important than the bond of family.


End file.
